The Neighbor: John Hayes #9 (PAPERBACK)

Pages: 406

Size: 5" x 8" (147mm x 243mm)

Format: Paperback

Series: Book 9, The John Hayes Thrillers

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The elderly man tucked the tail of his wife’s coat inside, then pushed the passenger door closed. He straightened up as best he could, trying to ignore the protests from his ageing body. 

Getting old was a pain in the… well, the whole body.

David Hayes grimaced, finding no mirth in his own joke.

He hobbled around the back of the car, nodding a greeting to a young mother pushing a shopping trolley laden with groceries. Her young son sat facing her in the trolley’s child seat, chewing on a carrot stick, and as they passed the rear of the car, he held out a chubby little hand, offering David a bite of the carrot.

Despite his aches and pains, David smiled and shook his head. That was the best age, but sadly, it didn’t last long enough. Cute little kids became moody, cranky teenagers who then left home, only to be heard from at Christmas and on birthdays.

David took a deep breath, then opened the driver’s door of the car and eased himself into the seat.

“Alright, dear?” he asked, more out of habit than anything else, as he fumbled in the pocket of his tweed jacket for the car keys.

“Can’t complain.”

Carole never complained. She was always grateful, no matter what happened… and they had plenty to complain about.

The car engine grumbled and coughed before reluctantly settling into an uneven idle. He selected reverse, then checked the mirrors and backed the car out of the parking space.

There was a loud honk, and he jumped in his seat, instinctively jamming his foot on the brake pedal. With difficulty, he turned stiffly and looked over his shoulder to see a dark blue BMW flashing its lights. The driver gave him the middle finger before revving the engine and accelerating past.

“Bloody impatient bugger,” he muttered, then checked his mirrors again before reversing. Why was everyone in such a hurry?

Exiting the supermarket carpark, he took a left turn, taking the route that led through the outer suburbs on the northern edge of Winchester toward their home just outside the village of Stockbridge. Once out of the city, it was a pleasant drive along country lanes lined with hedgerows and stone walls. It was one of those beautiful spring days where the sun held warmth, and the clouds that punctuated the deep blue sky were for decoration rather than threatening rain. The rolling green fields of Hampshire spread out on either side and bunches of daffodils and buttercups dotted the roadside.

The scenery lifted David’s mood and he and Carole settled into a comfortable silence as they drove deeper into the countryside. They loved their part of the world and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. 

After twenty-five minutes, David indicated left, then pulled into the narrow lane leading toward their cottage. The road surface was pitted and broken and he guided the car carefully around the worst of the potholes, as the edges of the road tapered in, and the ancient hedgerows on each side towered over the car, creating a tunnel effect. The road curved to the right as it narrowed further, and he honked a warning before continuing cautiously around the corner. 

As the road straightened, he saw two vehicles heading towards him at speed. He braked instinctively, but in his panic stalled, and the little hatchback jerked to a halt. 

The oncoming vehicles, a black SUV and a sleek black sedan, flashed their lights and honked, showing no sign of giving way. 

David’s heart raced and his hand trembled as he reached for the ignition key and twisted it. The car lurched forward, but didn’t start. He tried again, this time putting his foot on the clutch and the car started, but he had nowhere to go, the two black vehicles filling the lane in front of him. Engaging reverse, he glanced at his wife. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, and her hands gripped the seat belt across her chest.

The SUV honked and flashed its lights again.

“Okay, okay,” he grumbled. “I’m moving.”

He backed up as best as he could, but the high banks and hedgerows lining both sides of the lane gave him no option to get out of the way. He glanced toward the front again, hoping the convoy had moved over a little so he could squeeze past, but the grill of the SUV loomed in his windshield as if pushing him along.

Gritting his teeth, he looked back, and reversed around the corner until the lane widened slightly and moved the car closer to the edge of the road. There was a loud thud, and the car lurched at an angle as the left rear wheel entered a ditch.

“Dammit.”

He pressed his right foot on the accelerator, but the car struggled to move, the little engine whining in protest. The black SUV honked again, then pushed through the gap between the hatchback and the hedgerow on the other side of the lane, followed closely by the large sedan.

The heavily tinted windows prevented them from seeing inside, but they didn’t have to. They knew who it was. 

It was the new neighbour.